The Key To Winding Up My Heart
by lilyamongthorns
Summary: No one else had ever kept their promise like she had. He'd been dropped flat by every girl, business partner, even his parents. But she was always there, the one thing that was constant in a world of variability. Pepperony. Post-IM. Pre-IM2.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Ok. My first IM story, so kind of nervous about this. I'm not entirely happy with it. It started off as a one shot, but I think I've got some more ideas. It also started off as fluff, but then it turned into something more angsty, and I think its going to stay that way from here on out. I haven't read the comics, but I've seen IM and IM2, and the Avengers was just absolutely amazing. I usually write for Harry Potter and Lord of The Rings, so I'm obviously a fantasy nerd, and this my first shot at all this. Anyways, I'm starting to ramble like Pepper. Ok, *deep breath* here goes.

Disclaimer; Own nothing. Title from Big Jumps by Emiliana Torrini.

-O-O-O-O-

The note had been left on her desk. The desk in his house, to be more specific. He'd used the pad of sticky notes in her drawer and he'd left the Sharpie open and lying next to the little lime green paper square. "Pep," it read, in his ghastly handwriting, "Wear that dress I bought you for your birthday, and meet me outside your apartment at 8 –Bossman."

She'd rolled her eyes and stuck the note on the inside of her desk drawer where no one would find it.

She'd been avoiding him all day. It was out of nerves, really. She was sure if she saw him, she'd start blushing like crazy. And if there was one thing Pepper Potts would never do, it would be to appear unprofessional at work. But it was hard not to, when her brain was moving a thousand miles an hour with fantasies of what the night would be like. It was like prom night in high school all over again. She was going on an actual date with Tony Stark. She hadn't been on a date with anyone in ten years; all the time she'd been working for him. That was mostly because Tony had always seemed to subconsciously know when she had a date planned and would keep her after hours. But tonight, she had a feeling, would be different. He would be a gentleman, and he'd take her to a nice place. He'd be the Tony Stark only she was allowed to see.

The whole day she was kept knee deep in paperwork, as always. She was clicking away on her keyboard, answering emails that Tony had avoided. The intercom made her jump when it buzzed, breaking her concentration. "Pepper," his voice demanded, a little too loud, making the speaker crackle.

She leaned over to press the button. "Yes, Mr. Stark?" she asked. It was silly maybe, to refer to him like that especially when no other employees were around to hear her, but she wouldn't take her chances.

"Hi."

She was thoroughly confused. "What? Um…hi." She clicked the button twice so she wouldn't have to hold it down and leaned back in her chair, going back to her emails.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Paperwork. Emails," she answered. "Did you need something?"

"No not really. Just saying good morning."

"Its 3pm, sir."

"You're starting to sound like Jarvis."

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the compliment." She continued typing. She almost forgot he was still there until he spoke again.

"SIx hours til our little rendezvous."

"Five, acutally."

"So you've been counting too?"

She was caught off guard. The blush was creeping back to her cheeks. "I've got to get to work."

"Right, right…so what's your address again?"

"Happy knows where I live."

"No, no. Happy's not driving me tonight."

"You're driving yourself?" She chuckled. "Since when?"

"Since…anyways, just text it to me. I won't remember."

"Goodbye, Mr. Stark."

"Hey, wait. What are you wearing today?"

"Goodbye, Tony." She clicked the intercom off.

Thankfully the rest of her work day was spent in peace and quiet with no further interruptions.

-O-O-O-O-

When she got home, she showered quickly and made sure not to forget deodorant this time. She made the decision to actually curl her hair rather than put it up. Quite a bold decision for her, since curling it was often more trouble than it was worth. Her pin-straight hair didn't take well to curl, and she'd probably end up with a limp mess by the end of the night. After fighting for a half hour to get one piece the way she wanted it, she was about to scrap the whole thing and tell Tony she was going to be late. She wasn't even dressed when her doorbell rang. After tripping over her curling iron cord, she made it to the door, cursing under her breath.

Tony was standing there, wearing a neatly pressed Armani suit. Her favorite one, with a red tie. His suit jacket was unbuttoned, and he wore sunglasses even though the sun had been down for an hour now. With a cocky grin, he handed her a single white lily. "For the lovely lady. I'm pretty sure you like lilies. Its lilies, right? You aren't allergic?"

"Oh, hi, um…Oh!" She took this flower. "That's sweet, Tony." She pressed the flower to her nose for a moment. She was impressed. One flower, and not a dozen roses like she expected. She hadn't expected flowers at all, actually, and that they weren't cliché was even better.

She was suddenly aware that she was standing in front of him barefoot, wearing a tank top and shorts. "Oh shoot…I'm not ready. You can come inside."

"Oh you aren't? Well what you're wearing is fine with me, and I don't think anyone else would mind." He peeked over the top of his sunglasses at the cleavage peeking over her top.

She glared at him and clasped one hand over her chest to block his view. "Funny."

In fifteen minutes, she had changed into the dress and managed to apply at least a little bit of makeup. It struck her, while she was finishing up, that he'd never been inside her apartment before. It wasn't too terribly small, nor was it dirty. She always kept her place absolutely immaculate, in true anal-retentive fashion. She wasn't really ashamed of what he would think, but should she show him around? She remembered the pile of bras that never got put away and was currently lying on her bed, and decided that maybe she'd give him a tour some other time.

She stepped out of the bathroom and into a pair of Miu MIu pumps, finally finished.

He was stretched out on her couch, feet on the coffee table, flipping through the TV channels. Usually, she'd be unnerved that he had his feet on her table and was stretched lazily over her couch like he owned the place. But this was Tony. Her Tony, which was so different than the way the rest of the world saw him. She cleared her throat quietly to get his attention.

"Oh hey. Wow. You look great." He stood up and took a few steps closer to her.

She felt her cheeks redden. Stupid emotions. She straightened up, trying to play it cool. "Sorry I made you wait. I had a mishap with the…" she sighed and gestured to the bathroom, "…curling iron, and I just…couldn't get my hair right, or I would've been ready. You know I'm not late. Never. Except that one time when I had to call Happy because my stupid car broke down, but I was on time for the meeting that day…" Playing it cool would not work tonight. Her nerves were getting the better of her. _Relax Pepper, its just Tony._

"You were." He nodded.

"You can't tell me I was late that day, because I wasn't."

"I never said you were." He grinned.

"Ok. So its settled."

"Sure." He shoved his hands in his pockets and cocked his head to the side. "You nervous or something?"

"Me? No. Waiting on you." She gestured for the door and walked past him towards it.

"Ok, because you talk a lot when you're nervous so I just thought."

"Still waiting."

"Coming!" He follower her out.

-O-O-O-O-

There was no Audi or hot rod waiting for them on the curb, but a sleek black limousine. She looked at him, confused. "So you didn't drive? Why didn't Happy…?"

"I gave Happy the night off." He shrugged. "And besides, I didn't want him to see any of what might happen tonight so he won't be able to hold it against me."

"Mmm, really? And what do you expect to happen tonight?" she leaned against the side of the car.

He placed his hands on either side of her. "I guess we'll just wait and see."

A cough from the other side of the vehicle made them both jump. "Excuse me. Mr. Stark? Are we ready?"

"Yep. Sorry for the wait, James." He straightened up and Pepper had to look away from embarrassment at being caught.

Once they were settled in the limo, she pulled out her Blackberry to finish the emails from earlier.

"Pep, what are you doing?"

"Hmmm? Oh just checking emails. I think Engineers Without Borders wants you to…" But before she could finish the Blackberry was snatched out of her hand. "Hey! What are you…?"

"No phones tonight, Pep. Its just us."

"But I need to…"

He put a finger on her lips. "No buts. Now what else do you have? Any more phones? An iPad hidden in that dress of yours? By the way, Pep, you look gorgeous."

"Oh," she said, ducking her head, never able to take a compliment.

Finally, he pushed his sunglasses up into his hair, and she was lost in his deep green eyes. For a moment, she forgot where they were. She lost her breath when his fingers trailed up her arm. But a ringing, somewhere within her dress, brought them both back to earth.

"Your…breast…is ringing."

"Yeah," she said sheepishly. She pulled another phone from inside her top and checked the ID. Phil Coulson. He could definitely wait. She tossed the phone onto the other seat where Tony had thrown her Blackberry.

"Will that be all, Miss Potts?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes. That's all, Mister Stark."

-O-O-O-O-

He opened the door for her, and took her hand once they arrived at the restaurant.

"Wow, fancy aren't we? You sure you're Tony Stark?"

"Shh," he said. "Don't blow my cover." He pulled his sunglasses back into place.

She laughed, more comfortable now. "Scared that someone might see the famous Mr. Stark actually behaving as a gentleman?"

She looped her arm through his as they made their entrance. It was a quiet little place. A place where they wouldn't be bothered. He knew the paparazzi bothered her, and all those people would spoil the moment. He was actually making an attempt at a nice evening with his girl.

At their table, she was a little antsy. She wrung her fingers in her lap, needing to keep her hands occupied.

"What's wrong?" He asked while a waiter poured their wine. "A bit anxious without your cell phone?"

"No," she said defensively. "Just…feeling…disconnected from the world is all. Its kind of…unnerving."

"Unnerving? Not to be bombarded with emails every five seconds? Believe it or not, Pep, there was a time when man survived without constant contact to the world."

She took her glass of wine, taking a long sip to calm herself.

"I can't believe you had a whole arsenal in that dress of yours. You pack electronics like an assassin would pack weapons."

"Maybe I've got more secrets than you know, Mr. Stark."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Really? I think you're too innocent for secrets, Miss Potts."

She shook her head. "No. I'm actually…quite…ruthless." She cleared her throat.

He chuckled. "I don't believe you." His hand slid across her knee and rested there. She hoped he didn't notice how her leg twitched out of reflex. But he had.

"Well, that's because…you've only seen me at work. You haven't seen me outside the office."

"I can't picture you any other way than the straight laced Pepper I know."

"I'm not…" He had pushed the fabric of her dress up further on her thigh. "I'm not…um…well, I…" He cheeks were extremely hot, and she glanced up to see if anyone was watching them.

"No one's watching, Pep." His breath was in her ear, and when she turned back to face him, he was much closer than he had been before.

"But, I…"

She was cut off by a waiter, seemingly appearing out of nowhere to take their order.

-O-O-O-O-

"I had a nice time," she said, unwrapping a blue Popsicle while she leaned against her counter. She had let him back inside her apartment after they finished dinner at the restaurant. He'd found her box of popsicles in the fridge and helped himself.

"Is that what you say to all your dates?" He asked, halfway through a Bomb Pop.

"No."

"Oh, I feel special then."

"You should. I don't let just anyone help themselves to my Popsicle stash."

There was a long silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. She watched him as he took a bite of the pop, and shivered when it was too cold. She spoke again. "I don't have anyone else."

His eyes moved from the Popsicle to lock directly on her. Her nerves were long gone now; she was ready to lay it all on the line. They were all the other had. He was her life in more ways than one, and there was no way he could even survive a week without her, and not just because he didn't know his social. But because without those heels clicking around his house all day, without her to turn down his music, without her to do his paperwork, to manage his schedule that he didn't attend to anyways, he was nothing. Without her to annoy him, pester him, pick him up off the floor when he was too drunk; without her to put some sense of order into his life, he was a goner. He'd be forever alone, because no one else had ever kept their promise like she had. He'd been dropped flat by every girl, business partner, even his parents. But she was always there, the one thing that was constant in a world of variability.

And without him, she was trapped in her own idiosyncrasies. Without him to constantly change the schedule that she'd spent hours perfecting, without his spontaneity, she was structured and straight-laced Pepper. Without his drunken nights, without having to baby him every minute of every day, he was just another employer. All the things she hated so much about him were the things that brought her to love him.

There they stood, barefoot in her kitchen, facing one another with one thing on their minds that neither could admit. She was in this ridiculous dress, and he had those obnoxious sunglasses propped on his head and all she wanted to do was grab him and run her fingers through that perfectly coifed hair of his.

Then his hand was on her back, his fingers stretching over the bare expanse of skin. He pulled her flush against him. Out of her constant compulsion to fill the silence, she muttered a quiet, "Um…" before their lips met.

His mouth was cool from the popsicle, and his stubble tickled her face. Her hands came to his hair, finally, and his sunglasses skittered across the hardwood floor. She returned the kiss. He pressed against the counter and she gasped at the cool marble against her back. She fisted his suit jacket in her hand, and pushed him away gently. "James is waiting for you."

She felt his eyes on her and looked up. "Ok," he answered, understanding.

"I don't mean to…" she whispered.

"Yeah," he said, his hand moving higher up on her back to brush her shoulder blades before threading his fingers through her hair.

"I…" she began, but his thumb pressed against her lips.

"You talk too much, Pep." He smiled, his eyes crinkling up at their corners. He turned for the door and gave her a wave before seeing himself out.

She sagged against the counter, her fingers clicking against the deep blue marble. It wasn't a failed date. It was the least she could expect from him. She moved to clean up their popsicle wrappers, and her bare foot came in contact with the Tom Ford sunglasses that they both had forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thank you guys so much! I love all of you. I've never gotten so many Favorites/Alerts on a first chapter. Thank you everyone who reviewed. Favorites and Alerts are nice; it at least tells me you liked it. But reviews are even better if you have the time. This is a little shorter, and kind of drabble-ish as well. I'm still feeling out an actual plot line and where I want this to go without being overdone or cheesy. But anyways, thank you all so much and I hope you enjoy.

-O-O-O-O-

She didn't like to talk about her salary. It wasn't a huge number, but it wasn't a very modest number either; she worked for Tony Stark, after all. She could afford a few nice things for herself, it was true. And she was a sucker for shoes. She had too many shoes to count. Dolce & Gabbana, and Gucci were her favorites if she had to narrow it down. It was probably an unwritten job requirement that all female employees of Stark Industries had to wear heels to work every day. She was a pro at conquering stairs in heels. She had never fallen, until today.

She was headed back upstairs after picking up the lunch he had ordered for the both of them. She thanked the (star-struck) delivery boy and hurried back upstairs, a little too quickly. Her heel slipped on the edge of the step and she stumbled. The boxes flew from her hands, landing in a mess of cheeseburgers and fries around her.

She turned to sit on the steps, not wanting to look at her knee, knowing it would hurt worse if she did. She remembered getting skinned up as a kid, and how if she looked at it, it always hurt worse. Maybe it wasn't that bad. She took a few breaths. OK. It didn't feel like she was bleeding. She was pretty sure she was ok. It began to sting and she waved her hands over it, blowing out a few short breaths. OK. All she had to do was walk upstairs, and pretend like nothing happened. No embarrassment here. Tony would never find out.

"Miss Potts, it appears you're…" Jarvis's voice began.

"Oh, shut up," she said behind clenched teeth.

Gripping the railing, she pulled herself up and tip-toed around the mess on the stairs. She made it to the living room where Tony was leaned back on the couch, watching cartoons. Sometimes he really was like a child.

"Well, I think we're going to need a plan B for lunch," she said passively, moving to pick up her phone from the coffee table.

"Geez, Pepper. What happened to you? Did you get in a fight with the Hamburglar?" He was off the couch in seconds. She hadn't seen him move so fast when food or alcohol wasn't present.

"No. I just…fell on the stairs," she said breathlessly. He pulled a French-fry out of her hair. "Oh, thanks. And the food kind of exploded everywhere. So…"

"You're bleeding."

"I guess we could call in for pizza…" she glanced at her knee. "Oh. Wow. Fantastic."

"Ok, please don't bleed on the rug. Its…well I actually don't know what it is. Polar bear or something. But its expensive, and that's irrelevant. Just go to the bathroom." He waved her away and followed behind her as she limped.

"Its these stupid heels."

"You can complain but I'm not listening. The heels are staying."

"Why? For your own sick, perverted pleasure?" she said, gimping into the bathroom.

"Exactly. Sit." He commanded, pointing to the counter.

She turned to sit on the counter. "Oh, wait, wait. Your stockings. They probably should come off. They're ruined anyways." He eyed her legs, with that brazen look in his eye, even though she was sure one leg was covered in blood. He was insatiable.

She sighed, putting her hands on her hips. When he continued to stare, she waved one finger in a circle, instructing him to turn around. One little pout was all the protest he gave before turning to face the window.

Bending over to hitch up her skirt, she finally got a glimpse of her knee. "Oh, God. Its horrible." She tugged the stockings down, making sure no other article of clothing came down with them.

"Yeah it is," he answered, watching from the corner of his eye as her stockings were flung into the waste basket.

She tugged her skirt back into place and sat on the counter. "I can't even look at it." She glanced around at the various products on the counter: mousse, aftershave, at least ten types of cologne. She picked up a bottle of Dolce & Gabbana, rolling it over in her hands before removing the cap. "Your bathroom is a mess."

He turned from where he was gathering the necessary supplies from the closet. He grinned when he saw her holding the bottle. He had hated that stuff when he first got it. But one afternoon, he'd caught her leaning just a little bit closer to him as she held out a folder of paperwork for him to sign, and he'd stuck with the stuff ever since. When she removed the cap, sniffed, and smiled, he swore right then it was the only cologne he'd ever wear again. He prepped a cotton ball with antiseptic and knelt in front of her.

"Why are you being so nice? Are you just using this as an excuse to touch my legs?"

"I'm always nice."

She snorted.

"No. I'm doing this because you're hurt, and there's no way you can walk around the rest of the day like this." He put his hand on her thigh to hold her leg still, and smiled up at her. "And maybe I also kinda wanna touch your legs. This is going to sting."

"Ouch!" she hissed when he touched the cotton ball to her knee.

"Don't be a baby."

"Says you. Now you know how I feel when you come home in that stupid suit all banged up."

"Watch what you say about the suit." He gently applied some ointment. "Damn, you banged this up good."

He finished bandaging her knee and stood up, brushing his fingers against her thigh just barely before turning to wash his hands.

There was a long silence. She leaned back on her palms on the counter. Her eyes were focused on the frosted glass that framed the shower. "Is that all then?" she asked suddenly and his eyes darted over to her. It took him a minute to process what she had asked. She wasn't asking if he was finished; obviously he was. And at least this time, she wasn't asking if there was anything else she could do for him. She was referring to the kiss they had weeks ago in her apartment. The kiss that had barely left his mind since it occurred. He still felt her lips on his. Her lips weren't smeared with too much lipstick like the other women. They were soft, and sweet, and pure. Entirely Pepper.

He tossed aside the towel he'd been drying his hands on, and instead reached up to pull out the rubber band holding her strawberry blonde locks in place. His fingers threaded through her hair, and his palm came to rest at the back of her head. "No," he answered and pulled her forward until their lips met again.

She scooted closer towards him, still perched on the counter, but her body was twisted away from his. He tugged her closer by her hip and was caught off guard when her own, usually shy, fingers pushed up the fabric of his thin grey t-shirt. When her heel dug into the back of his knee, he bent forward out of instinct and she was nudged further back on the counter, knocking over a few bottles of mousse. She swore this man had more hair products than she did.

He attempted to pull back for air, but she didn't release him. Her teeth caught his bottom lip, forcing him to keep going. His hand sought leverage on the counter and a few more bottles clattered over in his wake.

One hand gripped his hair like a lifeline, while the other hitched further under his shirt until the cool metal of the reactor met her hand. She was clinging to him, close and tight like a vice. He didn't mind in the slightest. She needed this, more than anything else. She had to be near him. She was the piece that made all others fit.

He was suddenly aware of her palm pressed against the device at the center of his chest, and he pulled back from the kiss. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. Her fingers were still knotted in his hair and he watched her chest heaving as she fought for breath.

He pushed a piece of crimson hair behind her ear. "I'm hungry," he said, his voice low. "Is it too late to call in a pizza?"


End file.
